


Love Is Dumb, But We Can Try

by Madamebongwater



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, F/M, a lil bit of angst, because Soul deserves to be wooed for once, plenty of fluff in between, this one is mostly from Maka's pining POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28843371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madamebongwater/pseuds/Madamebongwater
Summary: Soul Eater college AU - Against her better judgment, Maka finds herself falling for her frustrating enigma of a coworker. As they stumble their way towards a change in the nature of their relationship, she discovers that Soul has a second life he's kept well-hidden. Can she accept this side of him, or will her prejudices hold her back?
Relationships: Maka Albarn & Soul Eater Evans, Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans
Comments: 15
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to Chichirichick for agreeing to beta this mess. This is my first time actually posting a fic, so I hope I don’t disappoint. Just a heads up/cw: there will be graphic sexual content in the future.

Maka trudged her way past the rows of small suburb homes with identically sparse yards; the roofs of various businesses coming into view straight ahead of her, indicating she’s finally made it to Death City’s town square. 

She felt a little twinge of anxiety in her stomach the closer her feet took her to the square. She’s about twenty minutes early, but she’ll be starting her first shift as a waitress at the locally-revered Cafe Grim. The nervousness tugging lightly at her gut isn’t a result of any kind of fear that she won’t be competent, or that she isn’t cut out for the job. She worked retail in her high school years, and she’s fairly certain that if she can make it through that without maiming a customer, she can manage food service just as well. 

What she’s more concerned with is how well she’ll get along with her own co-workers. She’s had trouble in the past butting heads with fellow employees who don’t pull their own weight. Maka Albarn is not the type of person to put up with slackers and bullshitters, not when she’s putting forth her best effort at all times. 

When she feels somebody is holding her team back, she has no damn problem vocalizing this. This confidence to speak her mind has certainly made enemies in her past, and though she wouldn’t compromise her beliefs just to get along with others, it still doesn’t feel great to walk into a break room and find her snickering coworkers become mute the moment they notice her presence.

That was back in high school. She’s in her second year at Death Valley University, and she expects most of her coworkers will be university students as well. One can only hope they’ll have a little more maturity than her former colleagues. 

She found some small comfort in the fact that she knows at least one of her coworkers prior to starting. Her roommate, Jackie, already works there as a waitress and had been the one to recommend Maka apply in the first place. Jackie has been her roommate and close friend since they shared a dorm together her very first semester. Just two semesters in student living had been enough for them before they decided to opt for an apartment at the edge of campus. 

Initially, Maka’s father had been paying for her to live in the dorms, but apartments are a little more costly than that. Even if Papa would have been more than enthusiastic about paying her rent, it just didn’t sit right with her. Especially considering she’s looking to sever as many ties as she can with the womanizing scumbag. She’d feel much less obligated to talk to him if he wasn’t financially supporting her.

As much as she may assert that she can’t stand him, she still carries some love in her heart for the old screw up. At the end of the day, despite his many wrongdoings, he’s still her Papa. 

But she doesn’t have to make things easy on him either. It has to be enough for him that she even speaks to him at all, because some days that’s all she can stand to give him. 

As if he could sense that she’d spared him a single thought that wasn’t entirely negative, her phone lit up in her hand with his caller ID displayed across the screen right as she approached the parking lot of the cafe. She stopped in her tracks and stared listlessly at the vibrating square in her hand before she closed her eyes tightly and reluctantly accepted the imminent headache.

“Maka! How’s my darling little girl?” Papa’s voice boomed, far too enthusiastic of a tone and volume to be hearing at 6:14 in the morning.

“What is it, Papa,” she expressed this as more of a statement than a question with the flatness of her tone.

“Eh-heh, right. I know it’s a little early, but I wanted to catch you before you started your first day at … uh, what was it? Cafe Goth?”

“Cafe Grim, Papa,” she already felt irritation creeping up on her so early in the conversation and came to the conclusion that this phone call should end hastily lest her mood be soured before the day even begins. “Just … what is it you need? I wanted to head in a bit early, make it quick, please.”

She could hear him choke on his own spit for a second before regaining his artificial cheeriness again. “That’s my darling, always putting the most into everything she does. They’re lucky to have you, no doubt!” He drew in a breath, and Maka braced herself for whatever request he obviously wanted to make. “I was just thinking … how would you feel about coming back to Vegas to spend a weekend with me soon? I hadn’t had the chance to see you over the holidays, and Papa misses his little angel very-“

“Now’s not a great time, Papa. Sorry, but I’ll be working weekends consistently from now on. I can’t start asking for time off when I’ve just started.” 

She could sense that her father wasn’t done with his pleading, but his next words were drowned out by the roaring of an obnoxious orange Harley motorcycle pulling into the parking lot. Normally, blatant displays of douchebaggery like this would grate on her nerves, but in this moment, she’s actually grateful for Mr. Wake-The-Whole-Damn-Neighborhood.

“Sorry Papa, I can’t hear you. Talk later, ‘kay?” And with that she clicked her phone screen closed and turned her attention to the front of the cafe. The biker who had pulled in was obviously part of the cafe staff. Why else would he be here this early?

She could see him rounding the corner from employee parking at the side of the building, and decided it’d only be polite to hold the door open for him. Might as well try and make a good impression.

She would have assumed he was an older man from a distance, judging by his mop of stark white bedhead and the pale stubble that littered his cheeks and jaw, but the closer he got to her, the more discernible it was that he’s likely another 20-something-year old much like herself. She mentally kicked herself, but she couldn’t help but note that he’s actually really cute.

Her polite gesture was soon made awkward by the literal snail’s pace this man walks at. Typically, when someone is waiting at the door and holding it open for another person, it would be most considerate to pick up the pace a little so they aren’t waiting too long. Apparently that concept is lost on this guy, because his gait did not exceed a lazy saunter. The smile on her face started to feel a little stale, but she held onto it for him as he passed her regardless.

“Good morning!” She beamed, and earned nothing more than a twitch of his lip and a gruff “mornin’,” as he squeezed by her.

_Well that was kinda rude. What’s he doing working in a cafe with a personality like that? He has to be kitchen staff; there’s no way he’d be working with customers._ Maka shakes her head as if it would erase this off-putting interaction from her mind, and made her way in after him.

She’s only been in Cafe Grim a handful of times when invited to study sessions there, but for the most part, she had kept to the Starbucks located in the university union building for all of her caffeine needs. Though she wasn’t a frequent customer, she can certainly understand the appeal of the peculiar little hipster-infested brunch spot. It’s a dimly-lit and intimate cafe decorated with antique furniture and bookshelf walls filled with donated books. The Victorian-style decor mixed with random Halloween-esque knick-knacks made it feel as though you were having a coffee in Dracula’s library. The menu items may be a little overpriced, but the atmosphere makes for a very comfortable study environment. 

Her eyes were drawn to the coffee bar area when she caught movement in her peripheral vision. The apathetic biker from moments before was now behind the bar and tying an apron around his waist as he appeared to be setting up for his shift. 

_Him? A barista?? Seriously?!_

“Maka Albarn?” 

She spun around to see a tall dark-haired woman emerge from the kitchen area with a familiar pink-haired girl following close behind her.

“Hi! Yes, I’m Maka. It’s nice to meet you, um-”

“Tsubaki,” She introduced herself, reaching for Maka’s hand and enveloping it in a surprisingly firm handshake. “I’m a shift lead here, and it looks like you’ll be shadowing me for a good portion of your training, so we’ve got more than enough time to get to know each other. I’ve heard you’ve got experience working in retail?”

“That’s right. Three years at Target,” Maka responded with a strained smile. She definitely doesn’t miss it, that’s for sure.

Tsubaki let out a good-natured laugh and patted her shoulder with a sympathetic crinkle around her eyes, “Oh, bless your heart. Well, you won’t be disputing old ladies over expired coupons and returns over here. I trust that you’ll like waitressing a lot better.” 

“I don’t doubt I will,” Maka said as she turned her attention towards the second woman. “I’m sorry, I think I’ve met you before?”

The pink-haired girl’s lips twisted into a saccharine smile as she offered a much looser handshake than Tsubaki’s. “Oh? Am I that unmemorable?” She batted her eyelashes and clutched a hand to her chest, faking offense. Maka’s mouth opened, an apology on the tip of her tongue, but she giggled and waved her off, bracelets jangling around from the motion. “I’m just playin’, I didn’t know your name ‘til today either, don’t go feeling bad about it. The name’s Kim. I’m a friend of Jackie’s, but me and you were never properly introduced.”

“That’s right, I remember now. Well, it’s good to put a name to the face now,’ Maka replied halfheartedly, her eyes flitting curiously back to the barista. Tsubaki and Kim followed her line of vision, and exchanged amused looks with each other.

“That’s Soul. He’s one of our baristas, and a man of few words,” Kim informed her in a hushed voice, as if he couldn’t hear her from a whole ten feet away.

“Good morning, Soul!” He noticeably winced at the shrill tone of Kim’s voice, but he peeked over his shoulder and gave her a curt nod, his mouth set in a tight line. He may have made something close to a noncommittal grunt before turning his attention back to his opening tasks.

“See? Man of few words,” Kim deadpanned.

Tsubaki stifled a laugh behind her hand, “Just give him a moment to wake up, he’ll thaw out. Soul’s just not a morning person. Come on Maka, let’s get you an apron and I’ll show you how to use the POS system.”

“If you can’t handle mornings, maybe don’t work as a barista,” Maka muttered under her breath, giving Soul’s slouched figure one last glance before following Tsubaki into the kitchen.

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a blur for Maka. As she expected, she was able to adjust to her role as a waitress with relative ease. The weekends are especially hectic, often having a line of waiting customers going all the way out the door. Maka had been a bit overwhelmed during her training period, but as soon as she got the hang of things, it was almost fun dealing with the chaos of the weekend rushes. She had even liked all of her coworkers. Well, all of them except for one.

It wasn’t that Cafe Grim’s barista, Soul Evans, had said or done anything specific to her to warrant the intense dislike she initially felt for him. It was more about his attitude, his whole demeanor in general. How can a customer service worker exude an energy that says “don’t fucking talk to me,” and still hold on to their job? Not only did he keep his job despite having an apparent chip on his shoulder, but all of the customers and staff seemed to love him. Every time she had to approach him to adjust a drink order, he’d just stare at her with this unnerving expression that managed to seem completely blank yet somehow irritable at the same time. As if he was bothered she had the audacity to ask him to do his freaking job. A petty part of her had wanted to catch him failing to do his job properly so she could feel as though her grudge against him was justified, but he managed to work fluidly and without errors even though he only looked half-awake while doing it. It was infuriating. But Maka wouldn’t allow herself to be intimidated by some self-important, hair-dyeing, pant-cuffing, over-glorified bean bartender. 

Fortunately, she didn’t have to speak with him often due to the magic of technology. Unless an order is overly-complicated, or needs adjustment quickly, every order is printed directly to his station from the POS system. Whenever she did have to interact with him, she would hold her head high and return the same uncomfortable amount of eye contact with as much disdain as she could muster. During end-of-shift cleaning, when everybody has the time to actually converse with their coworkers, she would find every opportunity to make sarcastic remarks and antagonizing comments towards him, which he would usually counter with witty quips of his own. She wasn’t impressed by his moody, devil-may-care disposition, and she wanted to communicate that sentiment through every exchange they shared. It almost became enjoyable to hate him. Until she realized her contempt wasn’t actually reciprocated.

With time, Soul started acknowledging her with wry smiles, or a little two finger salute whenever she’d need something from the coffee bar. She had dwelled far too long on the discovery that he has a very cute dimple on the left side of his face on the rare occasion that he actually smiles. At the end of every shift when most closing duties have been completed, the staff would gather in the kitchen to eat the mountain of left-over hashbrowns, affectionately named ‘trashbrowns’, on the griddle. Typically, Maka would choose to hang out with the servers while she ate, and Soul would consistently socialize with the kitchen staff. She couldn’t pinpoint when it happened, but Soul started to gravitate towards her during these breaks. Sometimes he wouldn’t provide any conversation, he’d just listen to her talk with the other servers, as if listening to her speak about mundane things was interesting to him. Other times he would engage in small talk with her, just shooting the shit about little inconsequential things. She couldn’t help but think he was under the impression that they were work buddies.

It brought about conflicting emotions to say the least.

* * *

Everybody has those days when they feel like their job has pushed them to their mental limit; this is inevitable working in customer service. Sometimes there’s a customer that walks in with a shitty attitude and decides they’re going to make everyone that interacts with them miserable. Some days there’s a persistent creep who can’t seem to understand that his waitress is smiling at him because they’re paid to do this, and not because they’re interested in his penis.

Maka is more resilient to these unpleasant situations than most. She’s experienced all varieties of assholes, and she’s dealt with them gracefully, professionally. Nothing pleases her more than denying entitled, disrespectful customers the pleasure of visibly upsetting her. 

Today was different though. Today was tougher, and she felt uncomfortably fragile under the weight of her frustration. Today her idiot father decided it was a grand idea to show up in the middle of her shift for a very surprising, and very unwanted visit. With his latest plaything.

Hurt, anger, and disgust wreaked havoc in her mind as she felt heat gather in her eyes in anticipation for tears she would not let fall. Instead she gripped the countertop of the coffee bar with white knuckles and stared at the back of Papa’s head with an intensity that might suggest she was willing it to spontaneously combust.

The woman he was with looked like she was old enough to be Maka’s big sister. She’s gorgeous too. Long legs, fun purple hair, and flawless makeup that would put any instagram ‘influencer’ to shame. _Where’d he find this one? A bar? Does she work in one of the many scummy gentleman clubs he frequents? Or perhaps he just saw her online and swiped right for an easy fuck buddy. That’s all he’s ever cared about anyways._

“Hey,” a gentle voice snapped her out of her hate-trance. 

She glanced up to see Soul, his pale eyebrows creased in concern, something she doesn’t think she’d seen conveyed on his face before. He had placed her father’s drink order - a pitcher of mimosa- on the counter in front of her, but his gaze still lingered on her expectantly.

“You okay, Maka?” his eyes darted to the table she had been laser-focused on and he cleared his throat before leaning in a little, “Is it another weirdo? I can take the table if he’s making you uncomfortable. You don’t have to put up with that, you know. Can even kick him out if you want.”

She let out a nervous laugh that did her no favors in reassuring her worried coworker that she’s alright. “Weirdo is a good word to describe him, but-” she shook her head in resignation before meeting his eyes again, “He’s my father. It’s complicated, but I need to deal with this myself, okay? The sooner I get him out of here, the better I’ll feel.”

The uncharacteristic crinkle between Soul’s brows stubbornly remained, but he huffed and rubbed the back of his neck, seeming to respect her wishes. “I get it. Just … if you need anything, I’ve got your back. Management would too.” 

With that he turned his attention back to the orders that had been stacking up during their brief conversation. She felt a little bit of tension that she didn’t know she was holding release from her chest as she took a steadying breath, grabbed the pitcher and made her way to the last place she wanted to be. She was nowhere near okay right now, but knowing that someone had noticed her distress and was watching her back - it helped a little bit. 

She willed herself to maintain the plastic smile barely hanging onto her face as she placed the glasses and pitcher down for Papa and - _God, what’s her name again, Beatrice? It started with a B, probably._

“Oh! Thank you sweetheart!” Papa’s eyes lit up the moment they landed on her, “I wish you could sit down and join us. Blaire’s been asking about you so much, I know you two would get along-” 

“Have we decided on an order, or would you like more time to decide?” Maka added hastily, her voice bearing no warmth or familiarity, but remaining civil.

Blaire appeared to notice that Maka is close to her limit, and placed a hand on Spirit’s shoulder to discourage any further comments from him. “We’ll be sharing the strawberry nutella crepes, that should do us for now, hun,” she said with a sympathetic smile that crawled under Maka’s skin.

She felt guilty about the resentment she can’t help but have for this woman. It was obvious that she sensed things are less than amicable between her and Papa, and she probably felt uncomfortable being trapped in the middle of it. Blaire more than likely knew nothing about her family situation, her pain. She’s just another pretty young thing that her father enticed with his over-the-top affection and acceptable salary. 

“Great. I’ll get that in for you guys,” Maka said with another strained smile, though she tried to allow her eyes to soften towards Blaire. She turned on her heel and made a beeline to place the order, allowing no time for her father to fit another word in.

“Spirit, honey. Just don’t,” she could hear Blaire whisper harshly as she walked away.

She pretended not to notice Soul quickly snapping his head back to the order he was making when she walked by him. Why is he so concerned about her? It’s just family drama. She’ll get through it on her own, like she always does.

She kept her interactions with Papa’s table to an absolute minimum, while still checking on them just enough to be considered an attentive server. Every time she stopped by, she kept things brief but courteous and shot down every desperate attempt Papa made at personal conversation. She had other tables to take her mind off the numb rage buzzing in her body, and she also had the weird stomach flips she felt every time she caught Soul checking on her. That was an effective distraction.

Before she knew it, Papa and Blaire were gone. She assumed she has Blaire to thank for that. If it was up to Spirit, he would have continued to order drinks long after they’ve finished eating as an excuse to hang around her entire shift. 

Even after they were long gone, the tightness in her throat and chest remained. If anything, it intensified. While her father was there and in front of her, she had been in some kind of shock, so angry she couldn’t even fully process everything she was feeling. She had something to focus on: a goal. Which was to get the two of them out of her sight as soon as possible. After her objective was complete, all she could do was allow toxic thoughts to gnaw on her optimism and energy. By the time she was completing her closing duties she felt so hollow, so drained. She wanted to scream, cry, punch something, and go to sleep all at the same time and it was making her feel sick. She couldn’t handle the walk home at this rate, she needed a moment to release some of this.

As soon as she clocked out, she took long strides straight through the kitchen and back storage, and shoved her way through the back door. Her knees buckled and she took a hard seat on the curb, burying her face in her sleeve as she sat in the quiet company of dumpsters and cigarette butts. She cut the imaginary strings that had been holding her up like a puppet all day and she sobbed, and it felt _good._

She had been so busy reveling in her well-deserved cathartic release that she hadn’t registered that someone was sitting on the curb right next to her, staring out at the empty back lot.

_Soul. How long has he been here?_

Her next sob caught in her throat and she jerked upright, frantically wiping her eyes and clearing any possible snot from her face. Her face burned and she felt her brain freeze up in embarrassment. She hated displaying weakness. It was so much more mortifying that she was displaying weakness to _him_ of all people.

“Why are you here?” she despised how shaky her voice sounds.

He barely turned his head, only regarding her from the corner of his eye for a moment before turning his gaze back to the lot, as if there was something interesting there, like two squirrels fighting in front of him, or something. There wasn’t. Maybe he just knew she didn’t want him staring at her right now. 

“Wanted to make sure you were alright, obviously. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I can leave if you want as well. It’s up to you.”

There was an insecure voice in her head that begged for him to leave her alone, but there was another voice - a louder voice - that wanted his comfort. Wanted someone to listen.

“He destroyed my family! He betrayed my mother, and he drove her away!” these words escaped her without her permission, echoing down the street in a raw screech. 

“I preferred it when he was scurrying around- hiding his sins from me. When he felt _shame,_ like he _should!_ He comes in here with no warning, and he parades his shiny new conquest in front of me as if I should give him my blessing. As if he deserves to be happy! He fucking doesn’t!” She was close to hyperventilating at this point and the tears were blurring her vision, but she couldn’t seem to stop.

“Sometimes I wish he were fucking dead! I wish I could go my entire life without talking to him again, but then I feel sick to my stomach for even thinking that, because for some idiotic reason I love him! He doesn’t deserve it, but he’s still my Papa and I love him,” that last sentence was nothing more than a trembling whimper. 

She was breathing heavily, lungs feeling like a paper bag, and her anger began shrinking into something more manageable. He had been so quiet, she could almost swear he wasn’t even there anymore, but when she looked to her side, she saw him facing her. She had his full attention. 

His expression was gentle, but she couldn’t translate it to pity. He had this warmth in his eyes that she couldn’t understand. What the hell is she to him? It should have felt condescending, like he was an adult patiently watching a child having an absolute fit, on the cusp of saying “you feel better now, buddy?” 

That’s what she would have assumed if she was feeling a little more defensive, but somehow she knew that wasn’t his intention. It wasn’t the emotion he was trying to convey to her. 

“He sounds like a bastard,” he chuckled a little before continuing, “Hell, he looked like a bastard. Who wears a blazer to a brunch joint?” Maka found herself reflecting his grin after that comment, if only a little. 

Soul rubbed the whiskers on his jaw for a moment, carefully choosing his next words. “Family can be complicated. You can hate him and still care for him at the same time. You’re allowed to feel two things at once. You’re also not obligated to give him your time or your approval just because he’s your dad. Look, I know this is advice that’s likely already occurred to you, but you have every right to live your own life separate from him. If you wanna cut him out, then cut him out. If you want to set strict boundaries with him, then do that and don’t budge on them. Don’t give him any leniency, because manipulative people will always take that as a green light to do whatever the hell they want.”

It wasn’t life-changing advice, but she felt this warmth in the knowledge that he sat here and listened to her lunatic raving and still did his best to offer his comfort and insight. 

“I know. Thanks - for being here, Soul,” she allowed herself a soft smile, and despite her inner turmoil, it felt genuine.

He nodded, and turned his attention back to his imaginary squirrel fight again. They sat like that for a while in companionable silence as his feet tapped out a rhythm to a song that wasn’t playing, and her sniffles slowly died down. 

“Ya wanna go mini-golfing?” his voice jarred her from her idle thoughts. She could have almost forgotten he was there, if her idle thoughts hadn’t been about him.

“W-what?? Like, right now?”

He shrugged, looking up at her with his usual expression of glazed disinterest, “Yeah. Why not? Ya just gonna go home and be sad?”

Maka sputtered indignantly at this, “I-I have friends! Who are you to assume I’ll just go home and cry alone in my room like a loser? I could have plans today already, thank you very much.”

“Do you?”

“ … No. But I could have. Besides, aren’t we a bit old for mini-golf?” she muttered, feeling a little sillier the longer they have this conversation.

“Sounds like something you would say if you knew I’d beat your ass at mini-golf.” His mask of boredom was slipping, she could see his lips start to quirk up in a playful smirk. 

Maka pretended she was still considering his proposition, as if she hadn’t already decided that mini-golf actually sounds great right now.

“As if,” she pouted, rolling her eyes at his childish goading, “Is this a reputable establishment?” 

“Oh, it’s exceptionally shitty. There’s go-karts, overpriced beers and outdated arcade games too,” he added this with a raise of his eyebrows as if he believed it was an irresistible offer. He had this dopey lop-sided grin on his face that revealed a row of unusually sharp teeth. He was snaggle-toothed in a really unconventionally handsome way. _There’s that dimple again._

He must have noticed that she was analyzing his smile, because it slowly disappeared into a self-conscious grimace as he began rubbing at his stubble again. She hadn’t meant to make it weird. 

“Fine, I guess beating you will brighten my mood a bit,” she sighed as she stood, dusting her skirt off and offering him a hand. He hesitated for a moment, but then he took it and hoisted himself up. She desperately hoped her hands weren't sweaty. 

_We’re going alone? Why does this feel like a date?_ Maka immediately stopped this train of thought before she became a blushing mess in front of him.

His smile returned, though he was making sure to keep it hidden behind his lips this time. He nudged her in the direction of his bike, and she beat back the nervous butterflies she felt in her stomach at the thought of riding in close quarters with him. _He’s being friendly. He feels bad for you. This isn’t a date._ She repeated this like a mantra.

She’d find herself repeating thoughts like these much more frequently in the future.

After weeks of loathing him, all it took was one day spent with him to bring her to the conclusion that Soul Evans is actually a big teddy bear with a heart of gold and the worst case of resting bitch face she’s ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

To say that the eccentric college town of Death City gets a little too passionate about Halloween would be an understatement. The city has a strange culture in which most things, from local businesses to parties and events, take on a spooky theme. It seems to be a tourist gimmick; a clever little homage to the town’s name. It isn’t that odd that an area nestled between Death Valley National Park and Area 51 would go by such a name. It is odd, however, that anyone would even think of locating a reputable college in such a desolate place. As one could imagine, this year-round enthusiasm for the macabre is amped up tenfold during the month of October. 

Halloween parties during the last week of October are normal, sure. But a Halloween party on October first? Perhaps a little overkill. Especially considering there will be many more of these poor excuses to binge-drink popping up all over Death City over the course of the month. 

It’s just Maka’s luck that this gratuitous little get together would be hosted in her apartment.

Not that she had any say in it.

Yesterday during work, Tsubaki had suggested that they throw a small party to celebrate the start of Death City’s most beloved time of year. Something comfortable with low expectations and half-assed costumes. “Pre-gaming for Halloween,” is how her boyfriend, Blackstar, apparently described it. It sounded kind of fun honestly, if not a bit unnecessary. Maka would have been happy to stop by their apartment for maybe an hour or so and then go home and call it an early night. Her roommate, unfortunately, had other plans. Jackie had insisted that she and Maka host the party, claiming that Tsubaki and Blackstar are burdened as hosts far too often. Nevermind that Jackie obviously just wanted an excuse for Kim to come over so they can hole themselves up in her bedroom after too many drinks.

 _Who does she expect is going to clean all of this mess when she’s hungover tomorrow morning?_ She sighs and takes another sip of her coffee mug filled with cheap cabernet. She’s been sitting with her knees drawn up on the couch, nursing her drink as she scrolls through Tumblr for at least the past twenty minutes. 

It’s not that she’s trying to be bitter and anti-social. She’s usually pretty good at consistently interacting with all of her friends at parties, and she’s already spoken to everyone that’s here so far. She just sort of wanted to have a productive day off and study for midterm exams. Maybe while Soul plays on his Nintendo Switch with his head in her lap, and perhaps she’d occasionally run her fingers through his hair. 

_Where is that idiot anyway?_ Maka hoped he isn’t going to show up super late because being on-time for a party is “uncool” or whatever. 

She wanted to be annoyed with him, but couldn’t help looking forward to spending time with him tonight. It’s strange to think that she’s only known him for a little more than a year, yet she feels like he’s always been a fixture in her life. She never could have imagined she would feel so comfortable with someone, especially a man. 

After their mini-golf not-date, she had only grown closer to him. The more time she spent with him, the more she started harboring these messy feelings for him that she had no idea what to do with. They went from making small talk about shows they liked mutually, to actually hanging out at each other’s apartments to watch them together. She didn’t feel strange about sharing a tiny couch, throwing her legs across him and talking about whatever comes to her mind, and he had no qualms about tickling her to steal the remote or laying his head in her lap so she can play with his hair. Their relationship certainly wasn’t professional anymore, that much is certain. 

She pulled at her pigtail nervously and opened Snapchat to take a look at the snap he’d sent her earlier that morning that she had left unopened, hoping it would prompt him to show up faster.

She’s greeted with a picture of him that should have been unflattering, but still managed to look attractive. Pretty boy bastard. He had the camera held at an awkward angle, centering on his nose, as if he had no idea the camera was on or how to use it. ‘Boomer selfies’ he calls them; he thinks he’s hilarious. She quickly snapped a picture of herself feigning unamusement with the caption “are you coming to this thing or not.” 

Maka then hurriedly returned to Tumblr, pretending to be interested in the same 10 posts she’s seen reblogged by pretty much everyone she follows. She’s reluctant to be caught snapping him again. Jackie’s already teased her about how often she messages him, and she doesn’t want to go through that ordeal while surrounded by mutual friends. Kim had been shocked he even responds to her snaps at all, pouting that he always leaves hers unopened. 

Maka felt a little bit of pride in the closeness she has with Soul. He’s like a temperamental old cat that’s boasted to hate everybody, yet chooses one person he deems worthy of his trust. She’s his person. At least, she _hopes_ she is. It kind of makes her feel like she’s snow white, or the cranky cat whisperer. Something like that.

At first, when the nature of their relationship had changed, she had been afraid that Soul was only being kind and taking an interest in her because he wanted to get into her pants. She can’t help but be weary of the intentions of men; she has the misfortune of knowing her father after all. Only Soul didn’t seem to express anything beyond an affection that could still be interpreted as platonic. Nothing he did ever implied a sexual or romantic interest. At first this was welcome, comforting. But with time, Maka started to admit to herself that maybe she wanted things to change between them. Maybe she wanted to know how soft his lips would feel against hers, what his warm skin would feel like under her hands. Is that something he would want too? Has he ever thought of her in that way? 

It’s not uncommon for these things to plague her mind, but maybe she shouldn’t be sitting here stewing in her inappropriate thoughts about her friend when she should be mingling with her party guests. 

“Ignoring all of your friends at your own party? Not the most gracious of hosts, Albarn. Am I finally rubbing off on you?” The all-too-familiar lazy drawl seemed to manifest right beside her ear, causing her to startle in her seat before narrowing her eyes in annoyance at the source of her surprise.

_Speak of the devil. He finally showed up._

Soul walked around from behind the couch chuckling to himself at her skittish reaction, and then stopped short to scan her whole body for a moment, hands shoved in his pockets. 

Maka urged her face to cool down, because why the hell was he pausing to check her out?!

“So what’re you supposed to be?” 

She had almost forgotten the half-assed halloween theme altogether, but she tapped her sparkly pipe cleaner halo and lifted her back from the seat so he could see her crumpled paper wings taped to the back of her T-shirt.

“An angel, obviously,” She snorted when he rolled his eyes and muttered something about “angel of death, more like it,” before he collapsed in the seat right next to her. He didn’t hesitate to lean into her until his cheek was resting on her shoulder. 

She craned her neck to get a better look at his choice of costume, attempting to ignore the fact that her face was in very close proximity to his. “Okay, your turn to tell me what the hell your costume is,” she said as she prodded him to sit up straighter.

He sat up and gestured at his outfit, which consisted of black jeans, a blue flannel and a whole lot of glitter thrown all over the front of his shirt. “I’m Edward from Twilight, duh.”

She couldn’t help the fit of giggles that escaped her, and his lips curved into a toothy smile in response. “Haven’t Twilight references gotten old already? Also, why the flannel?” she inquired, hiding no small amount of amusement as she started to down the rest of her convenience store wine.

“Yeah, Edward wears those, right? I dunno, I just had some glitter on hand and thought I’d make some use of it. Get off my back.”

“Pffftt, why do you have glit- hey!” her teasing was interrupted when he snatched her mug out of her hands and took a sniff of the empty cup.

“Jeezus Maks, you had wine in here? I don’t think you’re supposed to guzzle it like that. What are you, a divorced mother of three with a failed Etsy soap business?” He chided as he stood up with her wine mug in hand. “I’m gonna get you somethin’ a little stronger that’s more appropriate for gulping down. You cool with a rum and coke?”

“It’s an $11 bottle of wine I got from the gas station, Soul. Excuse me if I’m not sipping it appreciatively.”

He seemed to ignore her last comment as he ambled his way over to the counter where the drinks were and started conversation with Kilik and Blackstar as he poured the rum and coke she didn’t ask for. She watched him for a moment, the way that mask of disinterest slipped as he wildly gestured with his hands talking about god knows what with his friends. She can’t help the little smile that graces her lips. He tries so hard to act cool and aloof, but some people can get through that front he puts up, and she’s glad that she gets to be one of those people as well. 

Soul’s eyes met with hers, and her face lit up with embarrassment as a smug look settled on his stupid handsome face. God, did she really just get caught staring tenderly at him like some yearning maiden in a romance novel? She really needs to start keeping these ridiculous thoughts and feelings in check.

She’s startled for the second time that night when she feels two hands clasp her shoulders from behind the couch. 

“Can’t keep your eyes off your barista boyfriend’s cute lil’ bubble butt?” Kim sneered as she threw her arms around Maka from behind her and leaned forward until she was right in her face, breath stinking of flavored vodka.

Maka pushed Kim’s face away with the palm of her hand, not in the mood for her teasing. Kim seemed to be completely unperturbed with her arms remaining latched around Maka’s neck in a show of false camaraderie. 

She liked Kim for the most part, but she was too damn nosey sometimes. Also, she’s the type of friend that will talk loudly about her kinky sex adventures she’s had with wealthy people far too old for her in the middle of a Panera Bread while being begged to keep her voice down. Maka really can’t understand why Jackie is so hung up on her, but the heart can’t help what it wants she supposes.

“I wasn’t staring at his ass, thank you. Just wondering when he’s gonna get over here with my drink. Also, shouldn’t you and Jackie already be at third base by now? Where is she?” 

Kim sighed and relinquished her hold on Maka in favor of leaning against the back of the couch. “Sent her back to the liquor store. You guys didn’t have any Henny, and I’m a woman of refined tastes.”

“Just tell me she didn’t drive there drunk.”

“Relax, Maka. It’s like half a mile away, she just walked. She isn’t stupid,” Kim groaned, exasperated with Maka’s mom-friend antics. “Anyways,” She started with lilt to her voice and a mischievous smile as she made her way to sit on the coffee table right in front of Maka. “I didn’t come over here to talk about me and Jackie. I wanna know when you and your loverboy are gonna resolve that sexual tension already.” 

Maka planted both of her feet against the edge of the coffee table and pushed Kim at least a foot away from her. “There is no sexual tension, we’re friends. That’s all. Now please shut up before he comes over here and asks what we’re talking about,” She hissed, hoping to god Soul wouldn’t choose this time to return to her with their drinks.

“Just admit that you wanna get in his pants! I’ll impart my wisdom to you, and then I’ll be on my way,” Kim said, waggling her eyebrows in a manner that begged to be punched in the face.

Maka’s eyes darted back to the kitchen counter where thankfully, Soul was distracted with a video that Kilik was playing on his phone. A stupid meme probably. “You have the wrong idea about us,” She asserted, hoping this interrogation would come to an end already.

Kim pursed her lips for a moment and looked up as if she were in deep thought, “Hmmm. Okay, don’t believe you,” she clicked her tongue a few times before her eyes lit up and a shit-eating grin spread across her face, “Guess I’ll just have to ask Soul what he thinks!” 

“KIM,” Maka warned, her facial expression looking only a little desperate.

“OHHH LOVERBO-” and with that, Maka lunged forward and slapped her hand over the pink-haired devil’s mouth.

By some miracle, Soul hadn’t even so much as glanced towards them, still wrapping up his conversation with the guys.

She only removed her hand from Kim’s mouth after she felt something wet and warm that was most definitely a tongue licking all over her palm. She gave a little yelp of disgust and began wiping the unwanted saliva on Kim’s jacket.

Maka looked at her pleadingly, but the stern look on Kim’s face told her that she isn’t getting out of this until Kim hears the confession that she wants.

“Fine. I guess … I want something more than just friends with Soul,” Maka relaxed a little when she saw this piece of information was seeming to appease Kim for now. “But, I really don’t know if he feels the same way. He’s hard to read sometimes, and I don’t want to make an idiot out of myself and ruin our friendship. Kim, he could be gay for all I know, and just like, affectionate with his friends?” The hitch in her voice made that last uncertainty sound more like a question.

Kim didn’t say anything at first, only regarding her with an unreadable expression before reaching out and clapping a hand onto Maka’s shoulder in a move that should have been reassuring, but wasn’t.

“I’m gonna be real with you here. I’ve never seen Soul so attached to someone before. Granted, I’ve only known him for a couple years or so, but he’s a pretty guarded person from what I can tell. So what if there’s a chance he doesn’t see you that way? You’ll still be someone he trusts and wants to spend time with regardless,” she then gave her shoulder a little shake to catch her downcasted eyes, “Hey. Jackie was scared to make a move on me too. She didn’t know if I was interested in girls, but lucky for us, I’m bi. She took her chance and she made her move, and now we fuck on the reg. That could be you and Soul if you took a chance like that too.” Kim had a serious expression on her face like she’d just said something profound, and hadn’t used the term “fuck on the reg.”

“Kim … I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, but I’d really just like to go at my own pace with this,” Maka sighed dejectedly, watching Soul’s body language from across the room as he appeared to be turning towards her and attempting to put his conversation to an end.

Kim pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation, but threw her hands up in resignation shortly after.

“Okay, Okay. I tried to help,” she said as she pushed herself off from her perch on the edge of the table. “Just ... have a few drinks. Get a little flirty while you have that liquid courage. You might have favorable results, that’s all I’m saying,” and with that Kim gave her a wink and stalked off to torture some other partygoer right before Soul reached her with two plastic cups in hand.

_Liquid courage, huh?_


	3. Chapter 3

Soul nodded towards Kim’s retreating figure, placing one of the plastic cups in Maka’s hands, “She peer-pressuring you?” He teased her as he slid back into his spot right next to her.

“She’s a menace,” Maka groaned, tucking her legs underneath her and taking a generous sip of her drink. She was pleasantly surprised that the flavor of alcohol was hardly detectable. This encouraged her to take another hardy gulp.

“Saw you guys starin’ at me. Whatever she told you, it’s a damn lie and I plead innocent,” he insisted, casually throwing an arm over the back of the couch. It felt kind of like when a teenage boy tries to discreetly stretch so he can put an arm around his date. He likely hadn’t meant for it to come off that way, but Maka’s mind already made the connection. As smooth as it wasn’t, she still fought the impulse to stiffen awkwardly at the simple display of affection. She’s used to this cuddly side of him when they’re alone, but Soul is usually pretty physically and emotionally withdrawn in the presence of other people. Does he want everyone at work to gossip and speculate about the nature of their relationship all over again? It was bad enough when Blackstar had seen her on the back of his motorcycle one morning. If she didn’t know any better, she’d assume he wanted everyone to think they were dating. _Whatever, don’t overanalyze it, Maka._

“I think I recall her saying something about your bubble butt,” she delivered this line straight, but soon dissolved into giggles when she turned to see him tense up and cast his eyes away from her, pink creeping up on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. There was something so satisfying about seeing visible evidence that Soul wasn’t as cool as he thought he was.

“Don’t have a bubble butt,” he grumbled indignantly, snatching his drink from the coffee table in front of him and downing half of it at an impressive speed. The alcohol did not aid in cooling down the noticeable heat in his face. He might have even looked pinker; Maka’s laughter persisted.

“You’re laughing. I’m being objectified and you’re laughing,” he rubbed a hand across his face in mock-exasperation, barely able to hide an amused smile twitching at his lips. “You’re just jealous I have a bigger ass than you.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but was soon cut off when he started tickling her just under her ribs. She had to brace her arm against the couch just to avoid spilling her drink as it was jostled in her hand.

“Soul Evans, if you make me stain this couch, I’ll give you a concussion,” she warned, though it hadn’t sounded as intimidating as she had hoped through all her cackling. Soul continued his torture as if she hadn’t just threatened him with physical harm, moving on to tickle her side. She was starting to feel a little light-headed and floaty the more she thrashed around, and it occurred to her that she might be tipsy already.

“Can you guys please be heterosexual somewhere else. Nobody wants to watch you two fuck,” Jackie said flatly with a clear of her throat as she clunked her outdated laptop on the coffee table. It seemed she had returned from the liquor store surprisingly fast for someone who had supposedly walked there, but Maka shelved that lecture for another time.

“Speak for yourself, hun. I wouldn’t mind watching,” Kim quipped from behind them. She was once again leaning over the back of the couch to invade Maka’s space, sipping contentedly on what she can only imagine was her long-awaited Hennessy. 

Jackie was busy plugging an HDMI cord into the TV and connecting it to her laptop, but she made the effort to turn around and send a very unamused look towards Kim before turning her attention back to her task.

Soul had scooted several inches away from her, and she was surprised by the disappointment she felt at the loss of his closeness. She could do without the tickling, but he was warm and he smelled good, and she would prefer if he was pressed against her again. She wasn’t sure if he had distanced himself from her because Jackie’s comment had flustered him or because of Kim’s proximity to his personal space bubble. Whatever it was, he’d just have to get over it. 

Without much other thought, Maka slid towards Soul until she was nestled against his side. His breath caught for a moment before he slowly let it out and tentatively wrapped an arm around her shoulder, squeezing her gently. She could feel his gaze on her, but she didn’t dare turn to meet his eyes. She would normally be vibrating with anxiety in a situation like this, but her nerves felt fuzzy, numb. 

If she looked at him now, this alcohol-induced confidence could crumble. Instead, she worked at finishing her drink, and kept her eyes on whatever Jackie was setting up in front of her as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. She could feel Soul huff next to her, likely frustrated she refused to acknowledge his questioning stare, but he settled his head against her shoulder.

What was she so afraid of anyways? Kim was right; he wasn’t going to give her the cold shoulder if she confessed she wanted more from him. Worst case scenario, he would let her down gently and things would be awkward between them before they pretend it never happened. That scenario was seeming more unlikely to her the longer she considered the almost possessive embrace he had her in. There was a room full of friends and acquaintances he could be spending time with, yet he chose to stay by her side. It had to count for something. 

She wanted to make an advance that couldn’t be mistaken as platonic, and she was close to feeling confident enough to pull it off; she just needed a little more booze to embolden her.

She tilted the cup back, but nothing wet her lips, and she came to the realization that it was empty. That needed to be remedied. She gently nudged Soul’s arm, attempting to wiggle out of his grasp, and he lifted his head from its resting place on her shoulder, tilting it much like a confused dog.

“Hm? Where ya going?” he mumbled, looking a little disoriented as if she had disturbed him from a nap. 

“Just getting another drink, I’ll be right back,” she reassured him, bringing herself to her feet. Just the act of standing made her head swim a bit. She didn’t make it far from him before he reached out for her hand.

“Hey, uh- how about I get you some water instead? You finished that one kinda fast. You can always get another drink later,” he offered. His face was relaxed into its usual mask of indifference, but the nervous bob of his Adam’s apple gave away his concern. It was sweet that he wanted to look after her, but it was also a little patronizing.

Maka slipped her hand out of his, patting his head with it. “Yeah, you want me to pace myself. I get it, but I’m fine, Soul. I had two drinks, I’m not going to pass out on you.”

For whatever reason, Soul didn’t look all too convinced in her ability to handle her liquor. He rubbed his hands on his jeans anxiously, and his neutral facial expression twisted into something closer to a grimace.

“No offense, but I’ve seen you get drunk off of three beers before. You’re a total lightweight, Maka,” his hand had returned to hers, and he was tugging at it insistently, urging her to sit back down.

She was fully prepared to speak in her own defense, but Kim cut in before she had a chance, “Would you quit treating her like she’s not capable of making her own decisions? If she wants to get drunk, let her. It’s a fucking party. I’ll get her the damn drink if this is gonna be a whole thing with you,” and with that she stormed off to the kitchen before he could get another word in. 

“Hey Kim! Turn the music off over there, we’re all gonna play some Jackbox in a sec,” Jackie called after her, “also, she’s right, Soul. Quit acting like a dad.”

He crossed his arms with a scowl and leaned back in his seat, “Fine, whatever. I better not hear any bitching when you’re hungover tomorrow,” he growled glancing back at Maka, his body language appearing very closed off. She couldn’t let him hold a grudge for the rest of the night over a stupid disagreement like this. 

“Oh, stop it,” Maka cooed, pinching his cheek. He uncrossed his arms so he could swat her hands away from his face, but she took advantage of this by grabbing one of his arms and quickly linking it with her own. She leaned against him much like she had before, and he rolled his eyes, but seemed resigned to his fate. _Big Baby._

“Alright, everyone get your asses over here, all you boring bitches are gonna play some games whether you want to or not!” Jackie called out in a booming voice that cut through all the chatter in the room. The TV finally connected to her computer, revealing a menu screen of various mini-games to choose from.

Patty, an eccentric and excitable girl who works the dish pit at the cafe, practically cannonballed onto the couch next to them.

“Ooh! Trivia murder party, do trivia murder party first!” she chirped, bouncing up and down with every syllable.

“No, anything but that one,” her older sister, Liz, groaned as she chose a seat right next to Patty.

The couch was becoming rather cramped at this point, and Maka had to shoo Blackstar away when he attempted to plop down in Soul’s lap. Soul had been fairly quiet, but she could practically feel the irritation radiating off of him. If the tight clench of his jaw was any indicator, he would likely snap at the next person to test his patience. He’d always been weird about who he allowed in his personal space, and Maka had a feeling he was still bitter about their interaction from before. Despite being quite literally crushed up against him, he was far away from her. 

She just couldn’t understand why he was being so fussy and overprotective. She was a grown adult and she could have as many drinks as she damn well pleases. Why shouldn’t she?

A few reasons why she should pace herself pops into her mind actually. One of them being her inability to rip her gaze from the way his throat moved as he finished his drink. The idea of leaning over and kissing his neck was becoming alarmingly appealing. She wouldn’t even have to move very far...

Any ill-advised decision she was about to make was disrupted when Kim’s face filled her vision, and a new beverage was eagerly shoved into her hands. The wicked curl of Kim’s lips was disconcerting to say the least.

“Long Island iced tea. Go get him, tiger,” she said in a scratchy whisper that was most definitely overheard by Soul. With that, Kim twirled around, skipping over to Jackie’s spot on the floor in a childlike manner that tried to suggest that she wasn’t the devil herself. 

Maka wasn’t too knowledgeable on cocktail recipes, but she was pretty sure Long Island iced teas were infamous for getting people obnoxiously wasted. It was occurring to her that perhaps it was unwise to allow Kim Diehl to make her drink. She wanted to get buzzed enough to be a little more straightforward with Soul - not black out and make an idiot out of herself. It was becoming more apparent that Kim might find entertainment value in watching her public humiliation unfold. She’d just have to be especially careful to cut herself off when she feels she’s had enough. _I’ll be completely fine as long as I don’t finish the whole cup_. 

Soul had to have heard Kim’s poor excuse for a whisper - he was only a few inches away from her after all. Yet, he remained silent for some reason. He hadn’t even looked as agitated as he was before, just … distracted. 

“What? Not gonna lecture me anymore?” she provoked, sticking a tongue out at him.

He regarded her for a moment with a strange, almost soft expression. Maybe he knew she was inevitably going to embarrass herself tonight, and that was a hint of pity she caught in his eyes. 

He let out a rumbling sigh, raising his shoulders in a half-assed shrug, “S’not my business, I guess. Just a heads up - there’s like five different kinds of liquors in that, and I can promise you Kim had a heavy hand pouring it. Best of luck to ya, lightweight.”

That last comment struck a nerve with her. She was well aware she’s a lightweight, but something about him continuously bringing it up was starting to challenge her ego. 

“I don’t even need to finish it if I don’t want to. I think I can gauge when I’ve had enough, and I can definitely handle my liquor better than you think I can, so get over yourself!” she punctuated her hopefully cutting words with a confident swig of her drink, which - _holy shit_ , was very sweet for something with five different liquors in it. 

Soul appeared entirely unperturbed by her outburst, offering her nothing more than a snort and a tiny quirk of an eyebrow. She held her head and challenged him with a scathing glare, eyes narrowing in irritation and he met this glare with easy amusement.

“Okay guys, you need to go to the website on your phone and use the code on the screen to join the game,” Jackie droned in the background, but Maka was hardly paying attention at this point, not all too invested in the idea of playing a game. She was far more invested in whatever stupid staring contest her and Soul were having right now. His eyes hadn’t left hers once, half-lidded and complemented by a dopey grin spreading slowly across his even dopier face. _Stop thinking about how long his eyelashes are. Stop thinking about those little freckles on his nose and cheeks that can only be seen when inches away from his face. Stop thinking, just stop fucking thinking._

“Earth to Soul and Maka, _please_ stop eye-fucking each other for five seconds and join the game,” Jackie sing-songed irritably, muttering “my _god,”_ under her breath shortly after.

Instead of blushing and looking away like Maka hoped he would, Soul simply barked out a laugh and quickly ruffled her hair as if she were his kid sister before pulling out his phone to join the game that nobody wanted to play. _Seriously? All that tension between us just now and he treats me like a little sibling?!_

Maka followed suit, but only to get Jackie off her back. It seemed she’ll be losing trivia murder party, because her mind was rather occupied with the overwhelming urge to get a reaction out of him. _I’ll show him to treat me like a child._

Maybe she could reach over and play with the hair at the back of his neck, or place her legs in his lap - that’d be unusually intimate for a moment like this, right? Sure, they do that kind of thing often enough when they’re by themselves, but it’d certainly be different with all their friends around. 

Her mind in its inebriated state, however, did not seem to be on the same page as her body, as she instead slapped a hand down on his upper thigh and gave it a very assertive squeeze.

_He squeaked._


	4. Chapter 4

Soul prayed she hadn’t heard _that sound_ that just came out of him, but the smugness that settled into her features only confirmed his fears. 

_What the fuck is she doing?!_

She made no effort to remove her hand either, only doubling down on the weirdness by massaging the handful of thigh she had gripped. She was staring at her phone innocently as if she weren’t groping his leg tormentingly close to his crotch area. He could only gape at her incredulously while trying not to swallow his own spit.

He should be used to this by now - being desired, sexualized. 

But it’s different because it’s _her_. 

It was also concerning because she’d likely had more alcohol than she can handle, and now was not the time for him to give in to the sexual tension that had obviously been existing between the two of them. Nevermind that it seemed her and Kim had been planning for this to happen. 

_“Go get him, tiger,”_ he recalled Kim’s encouraging words to Maka from minutes before. He had to be the _him_ she was referring to - who else would it be? She’d been clinging to him all night, and now she had her fingers latched into the meat of his thigh. This had been set up from the moment she started drinking, and he wasn’t sure what to think about that.

Part of him - a very self-centered part, was ecstatic that he could possibly stop agonizing over whether she felt the same way about him. He’d wanted something more between them for a long time, at least since that day he took her mini-golfing. He had suggested it because she truly seemed to need a distraction while her dirtbag father was in town - he’d had no ulterior motives for bringing her there, but he couldn’t stop the feelings that developed when she wrapped her arms tightly around him on the ride there. His heartbeat had rattled sporadically in his chest, and his whole body had threatened to melt, and from that point on he knew he was a goner.

Another more familiar part of him whispered doubts. _She’s only doing this because Kim’s planted some idea into her tipsy brain. This is nothing more than a friend attempting to meddle in your non-existent love life. She’s drunk, she doesn’t feel this way. Don’t go tryin’ to believe what you wanna believe._

While stuck in his thoughts, Maka only became bolder, moving her hand up until it brushed against a regrettably stiff outline of his cock. Something close to a whimper escaped him, and though the game was thankfully loud enough that it hadn’t caught anyone else’s attention, Maka appeared to be delighted by the pathetic sound. She sighed sweetly, leaning further into him and practically purring his name - _“Soul.”_

_Oh god. He wasn’t going to make it through these games._

He reflexively grabbed her wrists before it could get any worse, and the confusion and hurt that instantly showed on her face felt like a punch to the gut. _I’m doing this for your own good, dummy. Can’t you see that? You don’t wanna be drunk diddling me in front of all of our friends, please trust me on this one._

“No?” she whispered so timidly, her lip trembling slightly. Drunk Maka seemed to be emotionally volatile, switching from assertive to hesitant so easily. 

He tried to convey as much warmth and affection as he could through his eyes and a soft smile, “Not right now, Maks. C’mon, everybody’s kicking our ass in trivia.”

He gently guided her hand away from the dangerous place it had been pressed against, and slid her fingers between his. He then attempted to bring his attention back to the game - which he had apparently already died in during his boner ordeal, and thankfully encouraged Maka to do the same. 

Although Maka hadn’t made any other inappropriate advances while the group played games, he could hardly stay focused on anything for more than a few seconds. She hadn’t been performing very well in any of the mini-games either, though that likely had much to do with her state of intoxication. 

All he could think about was how warm her hands had been, and how close she was to him even now. He could feel the rise and fall of every breath she took, and he snuck a glance at her only to find she was slumped against him - asleep.

At this point, Jackie’s forced game time was over; she and Kim had gone to her room for some late night fun, and everyone else had more or less dispersed from the couch. 

“Hey, Maka,” he said in a hushed voice, shaking her shoulder softly. Her eyebrows furrowed, but she made no other move to acknowledge him. “Maka, let’s get you to bed, don’t sleep out here,” he tried again, preparing himself to get up and carry her if he had to. 

Just as he was bringing himself to his feet, the balcony door slammed open, Blackstar’s head poking out and scanning the room until he spotted Soul’s snowy mess of hair, “Ey Soul! We’re lighting up an L, you coming?” 

Weed actually sounded like the perfect balm for his overwhelming anxiety. Nothing slowed his frantic thoughts better than a good high. 

But he needed to make sure Maka was taken care of first.

“Nah, man. I mean, I gotta make sure Maka’s alright,” he nodded towards her crumpled figure on the couch.

Blackstar only threw his head back and guffawed, “Duuude, she’s fuckin’ lit. Never thought I’d see the day Maka loosens up,” he snickered, wiping his eyes on his sleeves. 

“Tsu!” he called after regaining some of his composure; she hummed a reply from the kitchen, where she was tidying up for whatever reason, “Can you watch Maka for a bit so Sir Pussy-Whipped over here can smoke with the lads?”

“Of course!” she replied, quickly setting aside the dishes she was cleaning to enter the living room area and assess Maka’s level of need. 

“Oh my, she’s had quite a bit, huh?” she chuckled lightly, as she made her way to sit by Maka.

“Honestly, she didn’t have that much to drink, but you know how she is. S’fine though Tsu, I got her,” Soul insisted - something about leaving her in someone else’s care didn’t sit right with him.

Blackstar banged his head against the door with enough force to knock any normal human being unconscious, “ _UGH._ Dude, she said she was gonna watch her. You’re wifey is safe, come ON.”

Soul chewed his lip in thought for a moment before turning to Tsubaki, “Alright, just try and get her to bed please.”

“Will do, Soul. Go enjoy yourself for a bit,” she nodded politely.

He scratched the back of his head for a moment, but eventually gave in and headed towards the balcony where Blackstar and Kilik awaited him. He only threw a few reluctant glances back towards Maka as she was hefted over Tsubaki’s shoulder before closing the door behind him.

* * *

The world was spinning and Maka felt as though she were weightless in the most nauseating of ways. Was that the floor she was staring at?

She wriggled around in her discomfort, nearly throwing Tsubaki off balance.

“Whuh- h-hey, pu’d me down!” she slurred, feeling more sick the longer she was held in her precarious spot upon Tsubaki’s shoulder. The taller woman complied, taking a few steps back and depositing her gently back on the couch. 

“I really think you should go to bed, Maka,” she calmly suggested, smoothing a few stray hairs back for her. 

“No! wanna kiss Soul g’night first,” she pleaded, and Tsubaki failed to hold in a giggle. She settled in next to Maka, taking her hand carefully and patting it with hers. 

“Maybe he’ll give you that kiss tomorrow morning, but you need to get some sleep for now. He’s not going to do anything with you while you’re drunk, you know.” 

She loved Tsubaki, but her motherly patience was getting old. She was hardly drunk! Just a little bit sleepy and dizzy - she could even have more if she wanted to. 

Just to prove it, she will have more. There was still nearly half of her drink left after all.

* * *

“Sooo ... what was the deal with Maka trying to rub one out over your pants earlier?” 

Soul sucked in a breath during his exhale, immediately choking on the smoke. Blackstar seemed to think it was helpful to punch him in the back repeatedly during his coughing fit. He flung the blue-haired idiot’s arm away from him, opting to lean over the balcony railing to catch his breath.

Kilik only watched this exchange with his mouth set in a tight line as he was attempting not to outright laugh at his friend. 

Soul finally got some air in his lungs again, coughing hoarsely into his fist a few more times, “Fuck off, dude, she was just drunk. She didn’t know what she was doing.” 

Blackstar was unfazed by his hostility, his eyes still glinting with mirth as he continued to push the subject, “Yeah bro, I’m sure that’s it. She was only drunk, that’s why she hangs out with you outside of work constantly. She totally doesn’t wanna slob on your knob, yep.”

Soul decided not to grace that with a response, and instead maintained eye contact with Blackstar as he deliberately handed the blunt to Kilik.

“Whoa! Hell no, I was next in order!” Blackstar squawked, waving his arms about wildly. 

“Yeah, but you were being a little prick, so I thought Kilik should have it instead,” Soul responded with an unapologetic shrug. 

Kilik took a smooth hit, laughing as it was quickly snatched away from him, “Honestly, Soul, everybody knows you’re into her, and she’s obviously into you. So like, what’s really the hold up? Why haven’t you made a move already?” 

Soul turned away to lean over the balcony again, finding trouble looking his friend in the eye after a question as straightforward as that. He rubbed at his jaw roughly for a moment before he could find the words.

“Told myself it was ‘cause I didn’t know if she felt that way about me, but that’s not entirely it. There’s … things she doesn’t know about me that I don’t think she’d really like,” he took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, “And I know I haven’t really talked about it before, but I haven’t exactly healed from my last relationship yet. It’s just hard to trust somebody like that again.”

Both of the other men made no response for a few moments, until Blackstar clasped a comforting hand on his back and passed him the blunt.

Kilik sighed, shaking his head in a display of understanding, “Yeah, that’s fair enough,” he said.

Soul had nothing else to add, and so he remained in thoughtful silence. He took a long pull from the blunt, holding the smoke in for a few seconds before allowing it to slowly curl over his lips. He was feeling as though his brain was stuffed with cotton balls, and his thoughts ran slow like syrup - something far preferable to the barrage of distressing feelings he had been experiencing before. Getting high always helped.

“Thanks for smokin’ me out, I’m headed in though. Just gotta make sure Maka’s settled in okay,” he muttered as he turned on his heels and made for the door. He was fully prepared to hear more teasing from his friends about how ‘whipped’ he is, but they were blissfully quiet.

* * *

Soul wasn’t expecting to walk back in to find Tsubaki very nearly wrestling with Maka over a plastic cup. The girl had passed out cold not too long ago, and now she was very much awake and shoving a hand into Tsubaki’s breast in an attempt to push her away.

He creeped around to the back of the couch and stealthily plucked the red cup from her hands. Tsubaki gave an audible sigh of relief in response to the drink finally getting confiscated. 

“I’m sorry, Soul. I didn’t think she had this much fight left in her,” Tsubaki said, slumping against the couch and rubbing a possible headache from her temples.

“S’all good, thanks for tryin’, Tsu. I got it covered from here.” Soul cleared his sandpaper throat and offered a hand out to the drunken troublemaker on the opposite end of the couch from Tsubaki. She eyed his hand trepidly, as if it might turn into a snake and bite her, but she eventually surrendered to grasping it, allowing him to pull her to wobbly feet.

He placed firm hands on her side and her shoulder, attempting to guide her towards her room without any accidents. He was soon brought to a halt when she stubbornly dug her heels into the floor, refusing to go any farther. 

“C’mon,” he urged her gently, but received no compliance. Instead, she twirled around collapsing into his chest. “I wan’-wanna kiss - for g’night,” she murmured into his shirt incoherently - undoubtedly getting glitter all over her face from his ‘costume’. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle - some of it genuine amusement, and some of it from nerves, “I’ll give ya all the kisses you want when you’re hungover tomorrow. You gotta go to bed first though, let’s go.”

She pulled back to look at his face, swaying dangerously before he caught her by the shoulders again. Her makeup was smeared under her eyes a bit, and her pipe cleaner halo had miraculously stayed on, but it was dented to hell. Imperfect, but an angel all the same. 

It occurred to him that he’d been standing a few feet away from the bedroom door staring reverently at this lovely plastered mess of a woman for a little too long not to be noticed by the few partygoers that were still hanging around. Quite a few people were staring, actually. 

When he turned his gaze back to Maka, he was startled by how lucid and determined she appeared to be in that moment. He hardly had time to react before she closed the space to kiss him, and he made the snap decision to turn his head ever so slightly, so that her lips caught his cheek instead. They were so soft, and a tiny hiccup escaped them.

The tiny hiccup turned into a small burp, and in a second’s time she was spewing vomit all over his neck and the front of his shirt. Her knees buckled and his balance gave from the surprise of it all, but he followed her to the floor to cushion her from the fall. 

It was almost comical, him lying flat on his back with a shirt covered in sparkles and puke. Though this was probably one of the only times he would prefer that Maka wasn’t on top of him.

That moment of lucidity was gone and her half-open eyes were now welling up with tears as she sniffled an apology. Tsubaki was striding over to help them, and he could hear a few comments of concern around the room.

“I think it really is time you’ve gone to bed, little angel,” he whispered so that only she could hear, a tired smile making its way onto his face.


End file.
